Authors: Elaine Orr
I let out a breath. "I guess it is. But," I rubbed goose bumps on my arms, "it means someone probably knew he was alive. Maybe he was in their trunk alive…"
MacGregor stopped me by shaking his head. "If so, Hal was not conscious. Don't dwell on it. Besides, I'm not convinced he was killed elsewhere."
I stared, eyebrows lifting and eyes widening. "Why would he have been there? I mean, I can't think of any reason why. He barely knew, barely knew…."
"Mr. Seaton?" MacGregor supplied.
Something tripped in my brain, and I thought I remembered that Hal said he'd bought Syl coffee, which he usually did at the diner, since it was cheap.
When I saw Syl there a few days ago, he said it was his first time at the diner. Was one of them lying
?
"Melanie?"
I had been staring at Dr. MacGregor, not speaking. "I'm sorry. I was trying to remember if Hal had even met Syl. Mr. Seaton. What, uh, makes you think he was killed there?"
"That would be too strong a statement. I read the report. Sheriff has it. Probably be released today or tomorrow."
Great. I could have waited
. "That's why you're talking to me."
He nodded. "You can come back after you read it." My face must have conveyed surprise, because he smiled. "Your mom brought me meatloaf after my mother died."
I swallowed hard.
Dr. MacGregor became more business-like again. "Neither the heels of his shoes nor back of his pants or the front, for that matter, showed signs of being dragged. That's a lot of dead weight to lift. Two people could have carried him, but even then his back would have been dragged, probably."
Dead weight
?
I spoke slowly. "I just assumed he was killed somewhere else and brought there."
Dr. MacGregor shrugged. "He could have been. Most of the bodies I examine are sudden deaths. I verify a heart attack or stroke. Car accident victims, that kind of thing. I read about criminal death examinations, of course. You should talk to Sheriff Gallagher when this is all public."
Oh yeah. He'll talk to a suspect
.
I WENT HOME TO rest for a few minutes before going to the paper. Ambrose and Sharon would be proud.
When I got to the
South County News
office, no one was at the front desk. Sandi was standing by the copier, feeding it pages. I called to her.
When she turned to look at me, Sandi's expression was what could be termed frosty. I frowned and shrugged, my way of asking what was going on that she didn't like. She raised her eyebrows and turned back to the copier.
What bee is in her bonnet
? I sat in the folding chair next to Sandi's desk and watched her walk toward me. I could do that because she wasn't looking at me.
Sandi slid into her chair and turned over a paper on her desk. "What's up, Melanie?"
"I came by to talk to you guys, and… Why are you acting weird? You turned that paper over so I wouldn't see it."
She stared at me briefly. "I figured you were here to talk to Fred, and I have other work to do."
She wasn't going to answer me directly, so I decided to plow ahead. "I talked to Dr. MacGregor about Hal's autopsy report."
I expected Sandi to exhibit her non-poker face, but she was almost blasé. "Fred'll be glad to hear that."
"What's with the Fred business? What's wrong with you?"
"You don't have to pretend," she said.
I raised my voice. "Pretend what?"
Her aloof front cracked, and she tilted her head as she looked at me. "That you and Fred really aren't working together and alone on Hal's death."
I was flummoxed, and it had to show. "We aren’t working alone. We agreed to share information."
The cold stare was back. "Exactly."
"Sandi, if you don't tell me what the hell you're mad about, I'll, I'll…"
"Leave Ryan and me out of the story?"
"Leave you out? What do you mean?"
Her face relaxed. "Fred said you were to work directly with him on anything to do with Hal. Ryan and I should 'go about our usual business.' I think that's how he put it."
I hadn't realized I'd moved to the edge of my chair, and slid back. "That's ridiculous. You guys are all over town. You'll hear stuff."
She seemed more like her friendly self as she leaned toward me. "That's what I said. He was adamant."
"It makes no sense." I regarded her, shoulder-length red hair pulled back in a scrunchie and tan blouse sporting a chunky necklace of what looked like medium-sized brown rocks. "Fred and I never talked about that."
Sandi leaned forward. "So, Dr. MacGregor had seen…?"
The door to the street opened. Sandi hastily picked up papers from her desk and looked toward the door. "Hey Fred, look who's here."
Fred had his briefcase in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, with an apple balanced on top of its lid. "Melanie. Didn't expect you."
I wondered why Fred didn't want me to work with Sandi, but wasn't about to let on she'd told me that. I gave him my usual smile. "Morning Fred. Didn't know I'd need an appointment."
He stopped a few feet from Sandi and me and gave her an impassive glance. "Just meant I'm not always here this early." He jerked his head toward his office. "Come on back."
"Later, Mel," Sandi said. "Your head okay?"
"Better every day." I followed Fred to his office and stayed by the door as he set down his coffee and pulled some papers from his briefcase. The office looked less like Hal's space.
A couple of cardboard boxes sat near the window. They probably had Hal's personal items or background papers from whatever he'd been working on. He printed everything, unlike everyone else, who downloaded articles onto their computers.
The small bookcase now had books I recognized as Fred's. Among them were his battered Thesaurus, a couple of books on Iowa history, and the style and word usage guides he preferred.
I glanced at him. He'd been watching me, it seemed. I smiled. "Looks like you."
He nodded and gestured to the chair across from the desk. "I almost didn't bring any of my stuff back, but Doc Shelton said it could be a few months before the paper's sold and a new editor's picked."
I sat. "Why so long?"
"Hal didn't have a will, so everything has to go through probate. There's no one to contest the sale, but they have to figure out what to do with the proceeds. No one can find any family."
"Much less his murderer."
Fred met my eyes. "No kidding. Figure out anything?"
I felt like I was talking to a stranger rather than the guy I used to grab a burger with after work. "Sheriff probably still doesn't believe I killed Hal, but my favorite IDI agent acts like he thinks I was at Syl's that night to destroy evidence."
"In all fairness, can you see his point?"
"I can. But I'm not an idiot. Why would I go there at night, when I'd stick out like a corn stalk in a bean field? I can do what I want when I'm there working."
Fred gave a fleeting grin. "You probably don't want to go around town saying that."
"Too true. I did learn one thing." I leaned forward. "Ran into Eliza at the farmers' market yesterday." I relayed some of what she had said. "So, do you know anything about a special friend Hal had?"
"Maybe someone recently committed," Fred murmured, as he slowly shook his head. "Or just let out. You have any ideas?"
"I think I'd have more luck asking around about it. Women could feel more comfortable with another woman."
He nodded. "Plus, technically you aren't a reporter."
And you don't want the other reporters working on this
.
"Did Sandi find out anything about Hal's car? I had just walked in and hadn't had time to ask her."
Fred frowned. "How'd you know she was looking?"
I didn't want to say it was my idea. Sandi and I share a lot, so if she hadn't told Fred that, she had a reason. "We both kind of wondered about it when we were talking about his neighbors. Guy across from Hal's house said he parked it in the driveway, not the garage."
"No one knows where it is," Fred said.
"Are you going to mention that in the paper?"
"I'm doing a follow-up piece that will be in the paper at the end of the week."
And you didn't say whether you would talk about that
. "Okay, so you need anything I might find out by Wednesday, right?"
At this, Fred appeared to relax. "That would be great. You can email, if you want."
"Sure." As I stood I noticed that the pile of folders was no longer on the credenza. Fred is almost compulsively neat. "I know it's a stretch, but would you mind if I went through those folders that were on the credenza?"
"Uh, let's see. I don't mind. I…should probably ask Doc Shelton, in case there would be questions about you looking at it."
"Oh, sure. Let me know."
Fred nodded, seemingly thinking.
"I'll bug Sandi on my way out."
"Listen, Mel." Fred tried to unlink two paperclips that were on his desk. "Given that there could be a murderer hanging out in town, probably is, I told Sandi and Ryan I wanted to carry the water on this."
"Ah. But if you're not around, I can clue her in on what I found, right?"
He looked at me. "You've got my mobile."
"Sure." I moved toward the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow afternoon, if not before."
I looked around the bullpen. Sandi wasn't at her desk. Ryan was hanging up a windbreaker on the row of hooks near the small kitchen just off the bullpen, in the back.
"Hey, Ryan."
He looked at me with a passive expression that said he thought I had teamed up with Fred to deliberately leave him and Sandi in the cold.
"Hey to you, Mel. Doing okay?"
"Much better." I walked onto the sidewalk, and someone in a car half a block away flashed their headlights at me. It was Sandi.
I nodded and walked to my truck. When I began to drive in the direction of the diner, she followed me and flashed her lights again. I pulled to the right and she drove around me. Apparently we were going to talk somewhere else.
A minute later she drove into the Hy-Vee parking lot, and I pulled into a parking space a few away from hers. It registered that she was in her own car, a blue Toyota Corolla, rather than the paper's little Fiesta.
She was closer to the store, but didn't wait for me.
What is this? The Watergate parking garage
?
Sandi walked toward the dairy display in the back of the store. When I got there a few seconds after she did, she was inspecting a carton of yogurt.
I took a half-gallon of milk from the refrigerator and walked to her. "I don't really like the Greek yogurt. Too creamy."
"Sorry for the subterfuge," she said. "I didn't want Fred to see us together."
"Sandi, if this is subterfuge, don't apply at the CIA."
She faced me, unsmiling. "It's like he doesn't want us to know what happened that night."
I wanted to say I agreed, but didn't. "Makes it kind of hard to cover the story."
"You know what happened that day, don't you? The afternoon, I mean."
"Fred told Sharon he found out his unemployment appeal was denied."
She nodded. "He called Hal. Fred was in Des Moines, so thank God he couldn't come in right away. You could hear them scream all over the office."
"Both of them?"
"Just Hal. But he yelled, 'Fred, you were never worth a dime of what I paid you.' He said that to Fred, of all people."
"Fred was the best of us. By far." I didn't mind saying this. He was thorough and never sensationalized. Not that a lot of what went on would fall into the sensational category in River's Edge.
Until Hal showed up with a tangerine in his mouth
.
"Why?" Sandi asked. "Why isn't he having Ryan and me all over this?"
"You know what you're not saying, right?"
Sandi started to tear up, but shook her head slightly and straightened her shoulders. "I can't believe he would kill Hal."
"Certainly not on pur…" I stopped, and turned to see who was behind the squeaky grocery cart approaching us. "Damn." It was Eliza.
"Hello, girls," she trilled. "Always good to see my two favorite reporters." Anytime Eliza wanted something, whoever she was talking to was her favorite whatever or her good friend. As is her custom, she had on a heavy, wool coat, far warmer than the temperature required.
"Hello, Eliza. Did you get everything you wanted at the farmers' market yesterday?"
"Oh, yes. But selection is still so limited. I'm here for grapefruit and apples."
Sandi started to walk toward the front of the store with her yogurt.
"Have you two heard the latest about Hal?"
Sandi stopped. Eliza had our full attention.